


Wild Desert Child

by MTMagni



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Chivalry, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Power Struggle, Romance, Sad and Beautiful, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTMagni/pseuds/MTMagni
Summary: Ambivalent and brooding, Kylo Ren breaks his own rule and intercedes during a public display of unnecessary discipline, sparing a waifish slave girl named Rey from her abuser.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Sisters of Smut





	1. The first day of spring

The smell of caked muddy earth and cut grass filled the air, mixing with the smoke of burning fires, the metallic aroma of freshly butchered flesh, and baking bread. It was a bustling marketplace, the first of the year, ushered in with the spring. Buds and blossoms were popping up, lining roads and filling the common areas with wild fragrant blooms, adding a vibrant color palette its otherwise bland crude buildings. It was loud and chaotic; conversations, shrewd bartering, and laughter could be heard before entering the gates, and it seemed to echo and drift its way out into the countryside.

Standing at his post, he pressed his back against the cold stone wall fortification, breathing deeply and scanning back and forth. He was fulfilling his obligation as Master of the knights of Ren, observing and making his ominous presence known-but he could sense a strange energy, a disturbance simmering beneath the seemingly innocent surface of sparkling sunlight and bright blue sky. It was there, someplace hidden away, abstract and teasing his senses. Disciplined and well trained, he knew to remain patient, that in time it would present itself. 

The towns folk did their best to ignore him, except for the occasional glare or side-eyed glance. Dressed in head to toe pristine black, he stuck out, lacking a single blemish. It was an indication that a man of his size and position, in clothing without dirt or wear, possessed an otherworldly power and unfathomable position. It was unsettling to those who walked past and exhilarating to the teenage girls thinking of him as a dark prince, not a killer.

Things of that nature, what others thought of him, were just a series of details that he filed away. Focused and calm, he was to complete his task of being present, ensuring control, peace, and justice when necessary. He didn't rejoice or receive pleasure when interceding in their disputes, but he was known as a ruthless and swift judge. HIs reputation was enough to instill enough fear that no one would dare step out of line, lest they find their head on spike or their body slashed in two by his fiery sword.

This day was no different than the last opening of the market. They were all shadows, dancing and faceless. The young women would bustle past, muffling their giggles while stealing glimpses of the tall dark knight. Feeling more like swarming bees than ripe and potential brides, he didn't pay much attention.

Whispering and smiling, they would gush about his massive size, full lips, and argue over the color of his eyes. The debate of whether they were a gorgeous honey hazel or whiskey brown would continue throughout the season, as none had the courage to look at him directly. They would gossip and wonder about his unchanging stoic expression, if he ever smiled, and how wondrous it would be. Better yet, how it would feel to be swept up in his strong arms and feel his kiss, even if it was for just a moment. Every girl in the town believed that she would be the one to break his silence and his stony demeanor, somehow, even if it meant never looking at his face directly.

"Ren, you ever going to enjoy this?" One of his men, several feet away, called out in jest.

"Enjoy what? This mindless chatter?" he replied, cracking a small sarcastic smile.

"You better learn to live....to enjoy the pleasures of life...or it will be too late...why waste all of the princely charm?" He laughed.

"Prince?" He huffed. "I'll have you sent to the fields."

"It was just a bit of fun." The older knight backed down, turning back to watch the crowds. His tone turned serious. "After all of this time, the battles, the death, the service and abuse, I am just saying that it would do you good to know some comfort."

"When did my comfort become important? You are the last person to give advice on things of intimacy. I have seen you crush skulls with your bare hands." He laughed, gently throwing his head back to rest against the stones.

"May I speak freely?"

"Aren't you already?" Ren replied sarcastically.

"I have known you since you were a young man...watched you grow into a successful and powerful warrior...a leader. Your time is coming...and what then? All of this...to be alone? In all this time I have never seen you indulge in the spoils of our victories-always retiring early to work on your books or train. Always something to do, to prepare, to distract. It is spring, look around you at the fresh ripe fruit...any of it...hahaha...ALL of it is at your fingertips. It is time, my friend. It is time you found a woman...unless you do not want a woman-"

"That's enough,” he replied, neither upset, nor angry. 

The older man looked the dark knight up and down, shrugging it off and turning back to his post.

"I am going to make a round....you never know...I might find a wife." Ren let out a rare chuckle, punching his partner in the shoulder as he passed.

The people parted as he strode by, breaking through their lines. He wondered what it would be to live like that, without the pressure of title or rank, to be wild and childlike. That was how he saw it, an odd child-like wonder without knowledge of fear, or sin, or regret. Life without bloody hands. 

As he walked, he contemplated the idea of finding a mate, of sharing his bed. And when he imagined sharing his life, the thought abruptly shut off. There was nothing about it he wanted to share, or felt he should. What did he have to offer a woman? Rank, yes, but he did not know how to love. He had never felt it. Had never encountered someone that made him look twice. He knew the tastes of the flesh, it was impossible to remain celibate with peers like his, but his appetite had never progressed beyond primal lust.

_ A Prince. Nobody knows. It does not matter here.  _ He thought to himself as he walked.  _ A Prince of a destroyed kingdom without a family...all dead. Just memories and voices from a different life. Now Master of the Knights of Ren. That is all that matters now.  _

Memories of his mother, dressed in her long billowing gowns, flooded his mind; the flowing brown cape that seemed to levitate and float as she bent down to gather him up in her arms. She smelled like wild flowers, and her lips were pink and full, like his, and they felt like peace when she held his head against her heart. Soft and warm, her body was like embodied light, and he felt like each embrace was some sort of cosmic gift- a glimpse into the mystery of life. She was magical, and powerful, and died far too young. And he kept those visions of her tightly wrapped in his mind, rarely thinking of the past as it hurt too much to untie.

Reflecting, remembering her almost black brown eyes, his mind wandered into the mournful feelings of loss and regret, wondering what she would think of him now. Her disappointment would be crushing, her faith in him uncompromised, and her hope would be too much to bear. 

_ Rebels and Outlaws, both of them....and him. He would have fit in perfectly here...amongst the scum and peasantry.  _

It was inevitable that his thoughts would transform to his father, imagining him hustling and haggling through the market. Title and honor meant little to that man, and wealth was like the wind, coming and going without thought of consequence. The masses of young girls would be bewitched by his charms, even as an older man. He had that slippery way of making you feel like you were the only person in the universe, and he cunningly knew how to share that hidden sparkle in his eyes like you were in on life's grand joke. 

They were shadows now, like the shadows that moved and shifted around him. Dull and colorless movements of spirit, going through the motions, each playing out its purpose in the grand struggle of survival. 

The hair on his arms and back of his neck began to rise as a strange tingling pulled at his senses like millions of strings tightening and tuning. 

The sound of the slap cut through the air, so severe and damaging it was like the sound of bones cracking in battle. Countless times that nauseating sound would rip through the air at festivals, during joust or games, eliciting the horrified silence of the crowds followed by groans of disgust. It was unique and undeniable, that unnatural snap.

Stopping, he looked, searching for the source of the commotion. Another slap rang out into the space, as the crowds began to pull back, opening the view. As the last gasps echoed their way to his ears, he had focused in on their source.

A large and obese creature of a man held his hand high above his head, pulling back to release another blow. 

The third slap rang out before he could determine its recipient was no more than a girl, on her knees, covering her head with her hands. 

Starting to move, his footsteps gained speed and urgency. He looked like a raven, diving in on a hunt, his black cape voluminously filled with air, whipping like fully extended wings. 

"What is this!" His voice bellowed as he approached.

Their faces were of disbelief and terror, as a sobering shock rippled through, ripping their joy and carelessness into fragmented pieces of confusion. 

Again, his voice rang out, before the creature could release his fat pink arm, pocked with blemishes and sores. 

"You  _ will _ stop!" His voice was acidic and laced with a predatorial warning. 

"What is it to you?" The fat man replied arrogantly, casually brushing him off without looking.

"What is it... _ to me _ ? Ren 's words were razor sharp, again baiting the fool to attempt a response.

Peering through the cracks in her fingers, the girl remained perfectly still, laboring to steady her breathing. The realization of his offence washed over his sweaty round face, changing from an expression of perverse sadistic pleasure, to one of stunned by fear as the color faded from his ruddy skin. 

"Oh....so sorry, Master. I am so sorry....I did not know it was you...I would never....I would never-" 

"You would never what? Disregard a Master of your Lord's guard? Or never be so low as to beat a child in public?

He could not hide his bubbling fury, knowing he had just stepped over his own line of staying out of their domestic squabbles. His anger was both at himself, the vile man's offense, and the act of public torture without formal explanation. Cruelty was only a tool, never satisfying, and when used senselessly it repulsed him.

"I'll have you sent to the stocks for a week. Apologize to this girl so all can hear. Her transgression cannot be so great to warrant such abuse, public or private." His eyes were narrowed and cold. 

The people stared back and forth. Plutt was a well-known letch, but somehow maneuvered his way into money and favor with people of power. It was a relief to see him finally reprimanded for his behavior, a feat that people had never dared request. It was rumored Plutt was entangled with criminal gangs who terrorized the backroads and forests, and had his tentacles woven within the military elite delivering reports on citizens and suspected traitors. Ren knew he had benefited from such reports, enabling him to rise through the ranks by eliminating potential rebellions, but in this rare moment Kylo Ren was motivated by something other than power. 

"Ha...you do not know what you are saying....your  _ Highness _ . " Plutt spit on the ground as he spoke, tossing out the bait.

"Apologize...to...the..girl." Ren's words were slow.

"I never took you for the chivalrous type, my Lord." He chuckled sarcastically, disappointed that he didn't entangle his emotions with his hereditary jab. "What do you care, she is just a desert rat I bought in Jakku. Parents needed drinking money. And all these years I took her in as my own...bringing her here to have a better life. To marry her off to some butcher or guildsman."

"Plutt... you try my patience." He unsheathed the enormous shimmering blade from his belt. "I'll say it once more...apologize."

The two men shared a moment, assessing and sizing. The tension was so thick, and the moment so dramatic, that it had drawn the remaining townsfolk as if a play or performance were on display. 

"Very well. I'll say it. Miss Rey, I am sorry to have offended you...after you sold the Lord's new saddle by mistake." He glared at Ren as he spoke loud enough for all to hear.

"You didn't tell me it was intended for him." Her voice was muffled and defiant. 

"All the more to not beat you....I didn't tell you...that you couldn't tell by its finery that it wasn't for old San Tekka who can't even mount a horse at his dusty old age."

Snickers and smiles rippled through the crowd.

"Enough. I do not care what happened. We are done here. If I hear of you beating this girl again, I'll have your head on a spike at the entrance to the city."

The energy and sound hushed. Ren stormed forward toward the kneeling figure. effortlessly shoving Plutt out of the way. Plutt staggered backward, the force was alarming to the naked eye as it seemed unnaturally strong, as if Ren's hand was so fast that it barely made contact with the beast.

Reaching down, he extended his hand.

"Child, stand. Stand in front of all of these people and take back your dignity....if you ever had it to begin with." His words were awkwardly soft, kind, and atypically sympathetic. 

Cautiously, she slowly removed her hands, revealing her sweaty tear-stained face. She slid her thin hand against the black leather of his glove, and their eyes met. A subtle spark of recognition passed as quickly as it came, like a burst of light or flash of lightning. To a random bystander it was nothing, but ancient wisdom and forgotten religions were not lost on the wise and elderly. 

Pulling her hand away, she lowered her eyes and retreated, pushing against the layers of bodies. She plowed and elbowed, embarrassed and frustrated until she broke through the smell of pungent body odor and metallic salt, until she was flooded with relief. She breathed in deep gulps of cool crisp air that lingered under the trees lining the stables. She cried unrestrained, gripping her head. Thick hot tears streamed and fell in shiny droplets, landing on her chest. Using the back of her hand she wiped her nose and searched for a place to hide, to be alone, and to steal a few moments to pretend she was safe.

Scanning the crowd, she had been successfully swallowed. Towering, he was being overcome by the movement of the awakening mob, tossing about as it was back to business as usual. He was able to look beyond the outer layers, past the tables and vendor booths, and into the thick green foliage by the newly updated wooden stables. It was there that he found her, and watched her cry, only to disappear between the buildings. 

"I told you to find a wife, not some slave wench." He could hear the voice call out through the laughter, never turning back, as he pushed his way to the stables.


	2. The Barn

Beyond the stables was a barn, its heavy doors were cracked open just enough to let the sounds of her panting, sobs, and grunts escape and drift down the freshly graveled road. Lined with high grass and the first peeks of color from the spring blooms, the path was pristine, having been tended to before the opening of the market. His gait was already long, but with quickened determined steps, he was halfway to the entrance well before anyone would notice or catch up.

_What do you hope to find?_ Wh _y do you even care? What are you doing?_ The voice in his head nagged along with the burning in his legs, and both were hovering in the background behind his determination to find _her_.

The sounds grew louder as he approached, more violent and raw. Holding his sword in one hand, he did not pause or hesitate as he lightly pressed against the door. 

There she was. Gasping for air between bursts of painful sobs, lunging and thrashing at the air holding a piece beyond her strength and size. Dropping her arm, the sword clanked against the wooden floor. Chest heaving, she dropped her head to let out a few soft sobs followed by several deep calming breaths. 

Dressed in a gauzy cream gown, she had adjusted the skirts, hoisting them to free her legs and body to move freely. The bodice was lacking the traditional corset worn by the ladies of the court, yet it fit snug around her lean build. Slightly boyish, her physique suggested, that given the proper nutrition, she would have full round breasts and hips. Instead of soft and smooth, her arms were muscular and cut from hard labor. Uncinched, her waist was tiny, and the heaving of her stomach suggested strong tight muscles enabling her to swing such an enormous weapon.

Pushing the stray hairs from her forehead and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she began again. The metal shimmered in the stray beams of sun that shined through the cracked doorway. 

"Ahem." He cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh!" She gasped, dropping the sword with a loud thud.

"Be careful, you do not want to lose a foot. Then what good would be?" He slowly emerged from the doorway. He had never been good at small talk or light-hearted conversation, and he had little experience speaking to young women, particularly those of lower class and education. But his words had a layer of humor, of teasing, that conveyed only slightly, leaving the intentions of his words ambiguous and unclear.

"What do you want?" She looked him in the eyes as she kneeled to retrieve the weapon.

"Oh....I am not here to hurt you. If that is what you think....besides,that weapon is far too large for a person of your size and without training....it is useless."

"If it is useless, then it won't matter if I am holding it or not," she replied cautiously. 

"I assure you, miss, Rey, was it? I am only here to confirm that you are ok." He spoke to her formally, yet something about her demeanor was gnawing at him.

"I am," she replied, unable to conceal her defiance.

He smirked, looking her up and down. 

"Is this the way you show gratitude or are you so ill-mannered that you don't recognize when it is due?" He was impatient and irritated.

"Thank you, Lord Ren, for delaying the inevitable. Are you here for me to feed your ego with inflated and disingenuous professions of gratitude? While you demean and belittle my birth and circumstance, or are you here for another reason? If it is for another, more ominous reason, I assure you that I will slit your throat or die trying." She could not hide her quickened rise and fall of her chest, or the blood that had flushed her cheeks to a bright crimson, or the curving of her lips that revealed flashes of her white teeth.

Grinding his teeth, he looked at the floor, at her feet, and up the length of her body, assessing and negotiating his emotions and thoughts. Never had a low born creature dared speak to him this way, and where his anger was stoked, so was something else, a new and foreign feeling that he could not ignore or push away. Simply, she had intrigued him. 

"Are you challenging your Master of the Guard?" His eyes imploring her to back down.

"I am, if what I have asked you is true."

"You are avoiding my question."

"I am not. If you are here for any reason that lacks the character of a gentleman, then yes, I am challenging you."

"My girl, why would you ever imagine I would do such a...thing?" His words trailed off as the realization set in, that this was not her first encounter with men in places of power, that she had spent years learning how to protect and defend herself. Despite her situation, she was brave and filled with a wild fire that was bright and bewitching. He struggled to find words.

"You see, Master of the Guard, you are not the first of your kind I have encountered. You do not scare me. I can defend myself and I will." Her eyes were filled with tears and she sucked back a loud sniffle.

"You will." He teased. "I am triple your size with a superior weapon and skill. You know this, yet you go on. Your hubris will get the better of you...mark my words. But if you insist. I will share a round with you."

Smiling, he raised his sword. 

He made quick work of her, letting her slice and clash, and at times giving her the upper hand. The struggle gave her more confidence, and as her resolve and power grew, so did the feeling in his chest and in his groin. Falling deeper into their violent dance, it became more difficult to discern what they were actually doing. What started as a playful attempt to let her unleash her anger, was quickly escalating into something entirely different. As each of her swings gained power and accuracy, it felt like she was drawing from him, from that locked away place he had never shared.

"What is wrong....you cannot spar with a girl?" she provoked, baring her teeth. 

There was an intimacy unfolding between them, a push and pull of anger and empathy, and where they began as total strangers, there was an undeniable recognition being fed and fueled by their physical expression. Their salty sweat mixed with the primitive earthiness of the hay and livestock, pushing away social status and expectation, revealing a raw spark of primal attraction.

"This has gone too far. I do not want to hurt you," he grunted, letting her flail and attack.

"Hurt me? You think you can hurt me?" She spun and swung, meeting his blade with a loud and forceful clank.

"I know I can," he said calmly, using his freehand to grab her wrist, dropping his sword while disarming her.

They stood, eyes and arms locked. It was then that he observed the flecks of gold glowing from within the green and amber, as her eyes sparkled again from rising tears. As they fell in streams, the tears highlighted her chiseled cheeks and the pink fullness of her wet lips. He was overcome by beauty, wild and innocent, yet fierce and strong like the Jakku desert sun that had tanned her creamy skin. 

"Do not struggle. It is useless." His voice was kind and empathetic. "Who are you?"

"Why do you care? Are you going to chain me up in your dungeon? I guess I deserve it now...don't I?"she replied with a last stand at defiance, returning his gaze fearlessly. It surprised her, to be so close to a man she had only seen in passing and heard of from girls who fawned and gushed over his handsomeness. He was indeed attractive, more than she expected, and it made her feel odd, tingly, and awkward. 

"Yes, I would...but I will not...and yes, you deserve it."

"I sold your new saddle...it was an accident, my Lord," she admitted, revealing her remorse. "Do I deserve it more?"

"You do." His eyes softened, disarming her further.

"I won't go." 

"I know. I won't take you." He smiled.

"Why are you being kind to me....why did you stop him? What do you want?" She stared at his lips.

"I don't know-" he replied, matching her tone, and expressing his confusion. 

His head felt like a hive of swarming bees, filled with warnings, until the humming accelerated to a mind-numbing pitch. She was radiant, defiant, and full of fire, filled with passion that called to somewhere deep inside that had been locked away. Utterly perplexed and briefly panicked, he could feel the last glimmer of internal negotiation fail. 

It was like two magnets pulling and attracting by some mystical force, making contact in a smooth and graceful glide. Enveloped in an intoxicating cloud, Rey's head was floating in a dreamy sweetness as his mouth pressed against hers. Pulling away slightly, he licked his lips, tasting her mouth before pressing again to feel her silky swollen flesh. Loosening his grip, she slipped her wrist away from his hand, sliding her arms around his neck, melting her body against his. Broad and hard, his chest was dense and safe. As her fingertips grazed the surface of his tunic, she secretly marveled at the refinement, having never experienced something so luxurious.

The kiss deepened, driving into the realm of heat and urgency. Nudging her mouth open, Ren’s tongue slid between the wet folds, sending a shiver down her spine and a surge of electricity to his growing hardness. The flood of sensations were new and exciting, awakening places that had gone unnoticed for an entire lifetime, like the sweat collecting behind her knees and beneath the curve of her buttocks or the untouched skin behind his ears.

His palms dwarfed her back, massaging and exploring her body, while his thick arms snaked around her slight frame and his tongue moved in fluid twirls.

The precipice was inevitable, as their breath and mouths grew hot and hungry, and their hands searched with urgency-hers from lack of experience and his from chivalric apprehension. Ravenous and unhinged, they both drew in the moment, holding that space with their shared desire, hoping to draw and capture every last drop of its energy into a pristine and preserved memory. For the first time in either of their lives, they ceased to be who they were, extending freely, and existing merely as twin lights in a sea of darkness.

"We must stop." He whispered pulling away.

The disconnection was jarring and painful. 

"Why?" She closed her eyes and touched her fingertips to her lips.

"Because....because we cannot go where this leads. I should not have come here. You must accept my apology for my transgression. This is not why I am here," he pleaded, wide eyed.

"I know." Her voice was so soft and faint, it was as if she was drifting away.

"Rey, I need you here with me," he implored.

"I don't want to open my eyes....I prefer to believe this is just a beautiful dream...a gift. Let me keep it that way." She sighed. 

Pulling her to him, he cradled her in his arms. 

"The Great Kylo Ren. Master of the Knights of Ren. What are you doing here with me? A slave, a wild desert child sold for scraps. You must go now. Thank you for saving me," she murmured. "GO."

Leaning down, he found her lips, breathing in her smell and taste, before picking up his sword.

"What is this?" A voice called out from the doorway.

"What is what?" His voice immediately transformed into a vibrating commanding baritone.

"Why Ren...I told you to find a wife, not a slave." The voice was playful, friendly.

"I am coming. I was just checking on the girl. She decided to challenge me to a duel." Ren's voice changed into a forced light-heartedness, as his eyes continued to systematically undress her, piece by piece.

"You?" The Knight was shocked.

"Yes," 

The two men laughed. 

"And she is alive?" The look of surprise accentuated the fine lines around his eyes, weathered from years outdoors.

"Indeed. She is surprisingly skilled for such a waif." He smiled, praising her. "But courage knows more strength than any training or skill."

The Knight looked at both of them.

"Yes, I must go...Miss...Rey is it?" 

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you for your patience....for your kindness. It will be forever cherished." Her voice wavered, as she lowered her eyes to the floor.

"My, how a good joust can calm the fire, like breaking a wild mare." The Knight chuckled.

"I will meet you outside." Ren looked at him with smoky narrowed eyes. The man read him well. Ren turned to leave.

"Rey-" He turned to take one last look at her.

"Go....just go," she replied, never raising her gaze from the hay littered floor.

Sheathing his sword, he kissed her forehead and rushed out of the barn.


	3. Fire

Throwing himself into his responsibilities and studies, he worked harder than ever before, leading drill after drill until his peers were left vomiting and begging for recess. He refused, arguing that he was not asking any more than he asked of himself. Lord Snoke demanded and expected the best, ambivalent to how it was achieved. It was rumored that he was so old and decrepit he could no longer walk straight, shuffling about in his gold slippers. Ren was being prepped to take control.

The Knight’s brotherhood was stronger than ever, and they could sense the change in their friend. Unbeknownst to them, it was not the pressure of his charge or impending promotion that was getting the better of him. It was a girl, one that he could not openly court, or even conceive of marrying-but he did and it haunted his every waking moment.

He was consumed with thoughts of her, and there were moments when he quieted his mind feeling her just beneath the surface of his skin, like a veil or whisper. Each memory and fantasy was like breaking off a piece of kindling, piling up and eagerly waiting for a spark. Days became weeks, and that imaginary pile of fuel grew without hope of friction or illumination. Lying in bed, shirtless and skin hot, he would touch his fingertips to his lips, closing his eyes remembering the barn. And miles away, in a small crude hut with a straw roof and cold stone floor, Rey lay by the fire, doing the same.

How could he know? He was not certain, but he knew the truth, that she was reaching for him just as he was reaching for her. In his quiet moments he could feel it pulling, the same magnetism from the barn, and could no longer bear the torture. She had captured him, body and soul, and despite every effort to push her memory away, she was ever-present. 

It was unacceptable for a man of his position to be bewitched by a slave.

It was not possible, and despite that impossibility, he felt like his soul was on fire.

"Again." His words rang out, as metal clanked and collided, and grunts and groans drowned the yawning sadness he could not reconcile.

"Enough!" Cassian yelled, as his partner collapsed to his knees. "Ren. Enough for today."

Panting, he scanned the courtyard and the men who leaned against the walls gasping for breath. Silently, he sheathed his sword, turned his back and walked away. 

"My god, what has gotten into him?" One of the men moaned.

"I don't know....I just don't know," Cassian replied, watching the black form fade into the garden beyond. "Rest up. I am sure he will expect us up bright and early to begin again."

Cassian knew the difference between stress and longing, and was not blind to either. Ren had been the little brother he never had, and he wished for him a different life. 

"Maybe he needs to go on a hunt....away from here for a week. It would do him some good to clear his head," one of the men said, between dry heaves.

"I doubt he would go," Cassian replied.

"You are the only one who could ever talk sense into him.....make him go or we will do it for you. He is too much right now."

"I know. I will think on it. Now, off with you. Get to the baths and freshen up. A night at Lady Kira's would do all of us some good." 

The men collectively laughed and stumbled their way to the showers, eager to be rewarded for the weeks of relentless torture.

"May I enter?" Cassian knocked lightly on the door to the library. Looking up from his desk, Ren nodded, only briefly looking up from his studies.

"Sir, the men...they wanted me to-"

"I know, Cassian," he replied coldly.

"Ok.. you know. So what are you going to do about it?" he replied, challenging him.

"I had not thought that far ahead," he murmured, appearing to half listen.

"I am taking you on a hunt. The men are off to Lady Kira's tonight...they deserve it." Cassian chuckled. "You have worked them like slaves."

"Like slaves..." Ren's voice was distant. "Yes. Sadly, like slaves."

Cassian watched him intently, observing and noting his expression.

"Then you will go? Lord Snoke will not miss you...all is well in his lands. We have made certain of it," he said, treading carefully.

"I will go," Ren mumbled as he turned the gold dipped page of his book. "When?"

"Tomorrow," Cassian said, boldly stating his plan.

"Tomorrow-"

"Ben. Don't argue with me." Cassian knew he had overstepped himself, using his true born name.

"I understand. Tomorrow it is. I mean no offense, but leave me. We leave in the morning," he replied flatly. 

Cassian shut the door and walked down the hall deep in thought. Never had he seen his friend this withdrawn and preoccupied. Time away was imperative. He would do everything he could to get him out of his own head, even if it meant taking him to Lady Kira's himself, or better yet, bringing a few of her lovelies to the woods. He would find the missing piece, somehow. 


	4. A hidden message

The route to town was pleasant in the spring. It was an unavoidable stop before exiting through the gate and massive fortified stone walls. Their horses were fresh and eager to open up into wide gallops through the miles of green. Black and glossy, Ren's stallion was sleek and graceful, and large enough to balance proportionately with its master. Outfitted in a newly crafted black leather saddle trimmed in red, it looked like a mythical shadow creature.

It was rumored that he was the son of a great rider and general, but those were only tales of a time long forgotten. There was no way to be certain, but their truth could not be denied when he was in battle or out for a hunt. His skill on horseback was almost otherworldly, like a gift from the gods, or so they gossiped over strong dry beer at the local tavern. Ren was a bit of a town celebrity, both feared and revered as their future leader.

Approaching the creature, he walked back and forth taking inventory. Dressed in black, his cape swirled in the wind and his thick black boots kicked at the fine gravel. Wearing a serious expression, it accentuated his long features; lips that were almost too full, a large roman nose with potential to overwhelm his other features, and a strong brow bone darkened his black-brown eyes until closer examination revealed streams of honied amber and gold. He was a mixture of awkward exaggerations, inexplicably balanced into a rare form of handsome. 

He ran his fingers over the unblemished leather surface knowing where it had come from and wondered if slave girls were skilled at such a craft. He shrugged the thought away as sentimental weakness, and imagined that women of that status were merely an extra set of hands, low enough to handle the urine to tan the leather. He felt a pit in his stomach with flashes of anger. 

Pushing away another wave of confusion, he allowed himself a moment to ruminate on the possibility she had assisted, even in the slightest, at replacing the saddle. A small smile squeezed the corners of his mouth, and quickly transformed into a frown, realizing the personal cost she must have endured. Compelled to examine it further, he massaged the skin to explore the details. 

"Ren...it is just a beast, mount it already so we can get on," Cassian chided. 

He continued his examination without interruption. It was there, beneath the flap of his saddle bag that he discovered it, the small branded image of a sun. Using the tip of his gloved finger he traced the burned imprint, picturing her fingertips doing the same. It had been left hidden, a beacon of sorts, as if she knew the secret of his torment, as it mirrored her own. 

Fastening it closed, he breathed deeply, mounting and signaling to move out.

Days blurred into weeks, and years. unless she was careful to keep track. Etched into the stone hearth were hundreds of small scratches, representing a single day spent in servitude, each a testimony to her unwavering faith. Nightly before bed, with closed eyes, she traced her fingers over the scarred stone imparting her intentions. And every morning, when she awakened with the sunrise, cold with the ashes of the spent fire, she would seek out the singular scratch from the previous day and prepare the space next to it. 

It went on like this for 14 years, and not a day passed without her routine. She had convinced herself that even if she died it would be a message to them- her parents, that she knew they loved her and were coming. Someday.

It was during her punishment for giving the Master of the Knights saddle away to old San Tekka that it occurred to leave him a message. It would be a small mark Plutt would never notice, and if fate was on her side, Ren would find it. He would know she had been longing for him, and that she knew he had been longing as well. It might be her only opportunity to break through that stony cold exterior. She had seen his smile and felt his warmth, for reasons she was not sure either of them knew.

But it did happen. It was magical, like a spell, or a force was pulling them to connect. It was the only moment she could remember that she felt safe and seen. 

It was unreasonable for her heart to ache over a man that would never- could never have her. But she ached anyway. Day after day, notch after notch, she ground out the hours, anticipating when she could curl next the fire, close her eyes, and imagine what his lips and mouth felt like one more time. By the golden warmth, in her mind, he was alive and real, with honey soaked eyes and milky white skin, with hair as black as coal and shined like glass.

Plutt slept and snored in his fluffy bug infested bed rooms away, while she lay on the cold stones warmed by the fire she built. Letting her skin turn hot from the flames, her hands skimmed and traced all of the spots she imagined Ren's mouth and fingers to be. To Rey, he was forever her dark prince, even if he never knew. And when asleep, she would swear she could feel his heart beating in sync with her own. Two rhythms, two becoming one.

Even if it was foolish. Even if it was not possible. Those moments were hers, and she could be anything she wanted to be.

The only other time she felt truly free was when Plutt sent her out with a bow to hunt, as he was too cheap to buy meat from the butcher. Borrowing a horse, before dawn she would ride off into the high grass, beyond the gates. It was rare that she wore her hair down, as she did on her rides, and she loved the way the wind felt as it carried her whole body. Tomorrow was another day to hunt and she hurried to ensure that her tasks were completed. It was warm enough to swim in the creek and lay on the banks to feel the sun. 

"Girl, I am sending you to the fields. I have a debt to pay and you will be my currency. If you are lucky they will send you back with some food. In the morning you will hunt, so don't work too hard." Plutt's vile laughter was an offense to her ears. "It is time to marry you off for a good price. I am tired of keeping you busy." 

Rey shrugged him off, tuning him out like hearing sounds through plaster. She packed her satchel and headed out beyond the walls to work the fields for the day. She was glad to do it, to be surrounded by green. At least she did not have to listen to Plutt swindle and hustle, and she knew she would return with a full belly having mastered working and eating.

The fields had a preternatural glow, covered in dew and mist, and something else she could not define. It was an energy that made her fingertips tingle and the hair on her arms stand on end, like she was surrounded by whispers she could not understand.

It was still early in the morning when the sounds of the thundering hooves made her pop her head from the dense grass. She almost dropped her hoisted skirt filled with scavenged herbs and flowers, as a beautiful black stallion floated past followed by several other less impressive horses. It was Ren, she knew it, and she fought the urge to waive and yell out his name. Overcome with joy and excitement, her eyes lit and her mouth grew into a full toothed smile. Suddenly, her voice caught in her throat, strangled, and her chest tightened like a vice squeezing her heart as if it would burst.

It was a foolish thought that faded as she watched his horse rode into the distance toward the forest. Dropping her head, she continued on with her work. She was nobody, just a slave picking vegetables in a field dressed in rags.


	5. Tresspass

The first kill was easy and it made her uneasy. Nothing in life was so effortless, this she knew in her bones. Something was amiss. The air was too calm, the sun too bright, and the sounds were too simple. 

The arrow pierced the flesh of the unsuspecting doe before the creature could bolt, tumbling forward into the creek bed with a splash as its legs crumbled beneath its paralyzed weight. 

Rey approaching the terrified animal. They beheld one another as she placed her hand on its head, imparting her remorse for having to take its innocent life. Rey tried to send her thoughts and energy through her touch, but instead she shared the creatures pain. She could not think of what else to do as she felt the last of its life force fade and pass. This was not her first kill, it would not be her last, and it was always difficult.

Coming back without a catch would be worse.

Field dressing a carcass was a skill she wished she did not need, but knew the agony of the alternative. Too often she had felt the pangs of hunger and sensation that her stomach was folding in on itself. She knew complete physical emptiness, stretched out torturous hunger that bordered on feral hallucinations. She had trained herself to repeat her prayers of gratitude as she peeled the skin from muscle, and when she split it's chest open from end to end. Neat and precise, her work was as good as the town butcher.

Luckily her workspace conveniently near the water and she could wash it all away. She had made easy time of her hunt, leaving space to be solitary and explore. As she examined the mossy hillside and creek bed, it became clear she was surrounded by a man-made dam, forcing the water into a deep dark pool filled with fish. Water rushed down in a powerful waterfall from the top of a giant rock formation; so high, if she climbed the bank she could easily dive from above. The rushing water was loud and frothy white, unlike the many shades of dark green and grey in the pool below, 

It was beautiful and pure, and despite the ominous feeling of human hands altering the natural path of the water, it felt like it was magical and undiscovered. The dam could have been created years ago and long forgotten as more fruitful spots to fish were used. For the moment it was her secret pool, untouched, mysterious, and welcoming.

Stripping off her dress, she waded into the cool water to soak and rinse the dark grey fabric. Crimson streaks stained the crystal water, flowing and stretching into ribbons like red strings, or roots. Spreading and reaching out into the flowing dark water, it reminded her of the dark night sky glistening with stars, vast and unpredictable.

Lowering her body into the water, she felt alive and connected. The smell of wet earth, heavy with smooth clay and green moss, filled her nose. It was like all of the stories she overheard in the kitchens, from the old ladies kneading and stretching their dough while the young listened. Stories of the innocent female lost in the damp dark woods, overcome by amorous Zeus or some other God enflamed with earthly desires. The God of Darkness seducing his Persephone was her favorite, even if it frightened her. 

Rey closed her eyes, letting her body float, dreaming of that story, imagining that she was the spring goddess surrounded by flowers and light. 

"What is this?" 

Rey startled and splashed, lowering her naked body beneath the water. Her eyes scanned and searched the heavily wooded bank that was woven with twisting tree roots and high grass, curtained by hanging ivy and leaves. The voice was familiar, yet formal.

"Don't you know it is illegal and punishable by death to poach from Lord Snoke's land?" The voice echoed, bouncing off the moist rocks. 

"I...did not know I was not on free land, Sir." She stood up from the water holding her wet gown against her naked skin and her cheeks flushed a bright crimson.

Minutes passed in silence.

"What is this?" He stood rigid and emotionless. 

"My Lord." Her voice softened. "I did not know."

"Rey-" His voice remained formal and stern. She could hear, as if she could peel it back like book pages or petals, a layer of softness and doubt.

"Yes, _my Lord_ ," She replied breathlessly.

"What are you doing here?" The formality in his tone faded into concern and disbelief.

"Plutt sent me to bring back meat. He is too lazy to do it himself and too cheap to pay the butcher." She was being honest.

"It seems I have a pattern of catching you in trouble. What now Rey? What am I to do with you?" His mouth was contorted into a pursing frown, but his eyes were wide and sincere.

"Let me go," She replied bluntly.

"I cannot do that." He stood firm, and clearly visibly conflicted.

"You cannot...or will not? Take the meat. I will not make the mistake again...truly I did not know...take it...and let me go. Please-" She begged.

"You are coming with me." In an instant his demeanor changed, pulling back into aloof and unreadable detachment.

"My Lord, I am without clothes...I cannot-" She replied panicked 

"You will wear my cape." He removed the flowing fabric in a graceful black wave.

"And how am I to retrieve it?" She felt the tears welling in her eyes. "My Lord, I may be a slave, but you said yourself, let me keep some dignity."

A similar panic washed over his face as he struggled to speak.

"I will turn away as you put on your dress...you will then come to me-"

"I will be soaking wet-" She protested.

"AND, I will hold up the cape as you undress and then wrap yourself until it is dry." Again, his voice transformed back to his original cold formality.

Rey hesitantly waded toward him, clutching her dress tightly. He was smirking.

"Don't act so modest. Proper ladies don't strip and swim naked in the woods. Of course, you would not know of those things-"

"Hush yourself. I may not be one of your ladies...and I do not want to be. I am happiest when I am in the woods and free-"

"Even if it is a lie?"

"YES! Even if it is only for a moment! It is more than you can say for yourself! You live in a prison worse than mine.. I bet you have never been so free as to strip and feel the earth and water against your skin...it would do you some good!" Her words rang out as she stopped halfway to the shore.

He stood silent, looking at her half naked and shivering. The peculiar feeling that had overcome him a the market-and in the barn had returned, and despite his greatest effort at composure and restraint, it was undeniable. It was like the earth stood still; sound, light, their surroundings. Lumbering forward, he bounded into the water, throwing the folded cape over his shoulder, not knowing what he was going to do when he reached her. Never losing contact with her frightened and defiant eyes, they were filled with a fire that set his skin ablaze.

The water splashed as his giant booted feet stomped, each a step closer to the inevitable.

As he closed in, she tried to back up stumbling on the uneven rocks beneath her bare feet. Dressed in head to toe black, he was enormous, far bigger than she remembered, and soaked to the waist.

"Stop!" He commanded, grabbing her arm to steady her.

"What are you doing!" She cried out.

Pulling her close, his body shielded her bareness. His torso heaved as he struggled to breathe and speak. Two dark brown orbs stared down at her like two black caves calling, pulling, and beckoning her to come closer. Overcome, she looked back, taking the moment to really see him, and compare it to the memory that had comforted her before sleep. He was as she remembered, but now she could see behind his eyes, into his expression, and see the longing for comfort-for companionship. He was as afraid as she was.

"Why did you come here...of all places?" His voice was tortured. 

"My Lord, I do not know what you mean-"

"I cannot let you go...do you understand?" He was exasperated and inflamed, tipping over the edge of reason.

"I do. I understand. I am yours...do what you must." Lowering her eyes, the tears dropped from her eyes like chips of clear glass.

"Rey, I would never hurt you." His voice was pained. "And I will not allow you to go back to that vile creature."

Placing his fingers on her chin, he raised her face to meet his gaze. She looked back at him with confusion.

"My Lord, I do not understand." She whispered. "What will you do with me?"

"I do not know. I have not thought ahead." A small smile curled at the corners of his mouth. "For now, you will wrap in my cape."

Dropping her dress, he immediately pulled her against his chest, partially from duty and from the overwhelming heat flooding his loins. The rough woven fabric of his tunic brushed against her nipples, hardening them, as she turned her face upwards and closed her eyes. Encircling her slight body with his thick arms, the gloved cold surface of his hands made her hiss between her teeth and recoil. Pulling her tighter, he looked her over, taking in the sight of the face that had been haunting his every thought for weeks.

"Are you afraid, Rey?" He whispered.

"No...are you?" She asked innocently.

"I am, " He replied. 

"Then let us have this moment. For whatever it is worth." She whispered back. "You have been with me every night as I fall asleep."

His body shuddered at her words and he did not try to conceal it.

"As you have been with me." He admitted.

"This does not make sense." 

"No....no...it does not." He reached and brushed the fine hairs away from her face.

"Will you kiss me again...so I can have another memory to help me fall asleep...so I am not alone?"

Without hesitation his mouth swiftly covered hers. At first hurried and hard, the kiss bloomed into a softer heated pressure, moving in fluid rolls with partially opening mouths and searching tongues. It was a kiss of familiarity and need, searching and finding the same spark and recognition. What was once new and unexplained now seemed more like a truth rather than a mystery. It was true that they had both been longing and needing the other, and it was yet to be determined why. But the heat and desire was enough to engulf them both in seemingly irrational and reckless action, where in their hearts it felt like finally being home.

"REN!" A male voice called out from behind the layers of greenery and over the grunts of his horse.

Pulling away, he looked at her calmly while reaching to his shoulder to pull down the cape. Dropping it over the water, he draped it, taking her hands in his as he wrapped it around her.

"Cassian. I am here." He called back.

"My Lord, what is this?" He did not conceal his surprise as he approached. Ren knew the man would have to dismount and clear a path to the get to reach the water and that it would buy some time to compose himself.

"Cassian, it appears we have a poacher in our midst."

"Who...that little thing?" He replied with a gruff laugh.

"Yes."

"My...will you look at that...I know this girl...this is the slave wench from the barn!"

"This is Rey....and she is my prisoner." Ren, turned slightly to look at Cassian, still knee high in water.

"Prisoner...yes." Cassian seemed puzzled but went along. "And what is it I am to do for you, my Lord?"

"You are to take her kill back before it rots...and you are to let Plutt know what has happened. He can answer for this when I return."

"You are staying?"

"Yes, I did not come all of this way to turn back now. I will figure out what to do with the girl."

"Aye. you will." Cassian laughed. "Shall I return?"

"Of course. I have nothing to hide, old friend." Ren reassured him.

"As you wish, my Lord." 

Cassian collected the carcass and secured it for the ride. He had no intention of returning that evening, or even the next day. For whatever reason the Gods had placed these two unlikely people together again, and he was not about to intervene. In the back of his mind he hoped it would be what Ren needed to find some peace, and it was cheaper than Kira's whorehouse. 


End file.
